


A Simple Arrangement

by babel



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babel/pseuds/babel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon and Vila agree to an arrangement to make life on the Liberator less stressful. Things don't quite go as planned. (Begins in S1 after Breakdown.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Arrangement

Vila blinked across the table at Avon, trying to decide if he'd misheard him or not. He wasn't sure how he _could_ have misheard it. But Avon was simply sitting across from him, continuing to eat his dinner as if the conversation was entirely commonplace.

"Would you mind repeating that?" Vila asked finally.

Avon glanced up at him, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "An arrangement. Mutually beneficial, I should think. My needs will be met, and you will have someone on board with a vested interest in your survival."

"You're a real charmer, you know that?" Vila said, laughing. Not that this was shocking in general, to be asked for such an arrangement. Wasn’t like it’d be the first time. Just, he never would’ve expected it from an uptight Alpha like Kerr Avon. Not so directly, anyway. "And is that all I get out of it? Possibly a bit of protection, granted it suits you?"

Avon quirked an eyebrow. "I suspect that you may be able to find some pleasure out of the arrangement itself."

"Is that right?"

"I had noticed the way you... watch me."

Typical Alpha, Vila thought, always expecting the idiot Delta to be overwhelmed by love at the first sign that any Alpha was interested. Not that Avon was entirely unattractive. Those eyes did make up for a lot of his lesser features.

"You're not really my type," Vila said flatly, "but... consideration above the others. Don't make a fuss if I want to stay up on Liberator while you lot go running off to get yourselves killed. Don't shout at me too much. We might have a deal." Vila shrugged noncommittally. "Not much better to do around here anyway."

"Right," Avon said, his lip sneering just slightly. "Be in your quarters at 2200, thoroughly washed, and I shall be there. If you are not there, I will take it that you reconsidered."

Without further discourse, Avon stood, taking his dinner tray with him and depositing it in the washing unit on his way out. Vila looked around the now empty dining hall. Suddenly, it dawned on him that Avon had planned this quite carefully. He must’ve noticed Vila stayed here after everyone else was finished, and it’d be the best time to ask this particularly personal question.

Smiling to himself, Vila sat back in his dining chair and folded his hands behind his head.

* * *

Vila decided, at the last moment, not to set any sort of atmosphere for Avon's visit. No candles or dim lights or anything. He did roll out the tuck away bed and set out the necessities next to it. He'd also cleaned himself, as if he wouldn't have without the typically _polite_ request, and even dressed in one of the nicer night sets he'd found. Simple black silk, which managed to look a bit naughty with nothing underneath.

It seemed silly, preparing himself this way. He never had with Gan back when they first got to the Liberator, and Gan was a good deal more deserving than Avon. Gan had actually liked him, for one thing, and hadn’t realized Vila thought of it as a protection deal.

Best to put that out of his mind, Vila decided suddenly, that mess he'd made with Gan. There was a good chance he could make a much bigger mess with Avon if he wasn't careful. Perhaps that was part of the allure. That, and the fact he'd never been keen on the idea of being alone.

The intercom crackled on, precisely three seconds after 2200, and Avon's impatient voice filtered through: "Open the door, Vila."

Vila rolled his eyes and disabled the locking mechanism. He didn't open it, though. Instead, he poured himself another glass of wine from the bottle he'd ferreted away a while back. If he was going to spend a night with that cantankerous bastard, he may as well be a bit tipsy.

Finally, the door hushed open, just enough for Avon to slide in, then hushed closed again. He already looked irritated.

"Fancy a drink?" Vila asked cheerfully.

Avon narrowed his eyes at him, though they glanced down Vila's body briefly before he spoke, "That was not part of the arrangement."

"Didn't know we had the rules spelled out that specific just yet." Vila shrugged. "Just in and out is the plan? Fine with me, but I'm going to finish my glass first this time round, if you don't mind."

"You're... right," Avon said slowly, as if the words pained him. "If only by accident. We should lay out a set of rules first."

Vila watched him, amused by how awkward he was, standing with his hands behind his back. He almost seemed _shy_.

"Couldn't hurt. Sit." Vila gestured to one of the chairs at his little dining table--if the flimsy thing could be called that--as he sat down himself.

Avon eyed him for a long moment until, finally, he did as Vila requested. He sat quite stiffly, with his hands folded on the table.

"Sure you couldn't use a bit of wine?"

"What rules would you propose?" Avon asked abruptly.

Vila smiled into his wine glass and took a long drink before answering. "No hitting or biting or anything like that. If I tell you to stop, you stop. You always use lubrication and protection, and you don't try to prove you're a big man by tearing me up. How's that?"

Avon nodded slowly. "Acceptable."

"I'm sure you've got a few rules yourself."

"Of course," Avon said, with a vague smile teasing around the corners of his mouth. "I am here for sex, nothing else. As such, I will not stay afterwards, and I will not socialize with you beforehand."

"We socialize too much as it is."

" _And_ ," Avon sneered. "I prefer not to be touched. I will touch you; you will not initiate any touch."

Vila raised an eyebrow. Avon was weird, sure, but he hadn't expected he was _that_ weird. Still, it didn't much matter to him, though it was a bit disappointing somehow.

"As you like." Vila downed the last of his wine. "So, shall we have at it, then?"

He expected Avon to look annoyed, but instead his expression went blank, and his eyes shifted down Vila's body again. He stood deliberately and waited until Vila stood as well. It was strange, standing so close to Avon. He smelled faintly like mint tea, this close. For some reason, it made Vila smile.

"The bed, I think," Avon said, his voice low.

Vila nodded and somewhat reluctantly drew away from Avon to sit on the pull-out bed. He sat with his legs a bit further apart than usual, and watched Avon's gaze linger between his thighs. After a moment, Avon turned away slightly and began to undress -- quickly and efficiently as if he were alone. Underneath the clothes, Avon was better looking than Vila had expected. He wasn't in _perfect_ condition, but he was fit enough, and there was something appealing about the line of his torso. Vila watched that line twist as Avon turned to fold his tunic and trousers over one of the dining chairs, and found himself squirming a little in anticipation.

He could see the anticipation was getting to Avon as well, even though he was still in his shorts. But Avon still watched him for a few moments before he moved toward him.

He stopped only a breath away from Vila's knees bent off the side of the bed. "Move back. Against the wall." Self-control strained his words,

"Plan on barking out orders at me the whole time?" Vila asked with his eyebrows raised, but he did push himself back until he was pressed against the wall.

Of course Avon didn't answer. He silently knelt down on the mattress over Vila, one knee on either side of him. Their bodies were maddeningly close, but not touching. Not quite. Again, Avon's eyes glided down Vila's form. As if he was trying to get used to it, somehow.

Gradually, Avon lowered himself down, just enough that he brushed up against Vila through all that fabric. Vila gasped, then groaned as Avon rose up again, away from him. He stared up at Avon, trying to understand what sort of game he was playing at, going this slowly. It wasn't how he'd pictured it. None of it was.

Not that it was altogether a bad thing, being unexpected. He didn't remember the last time he'd _been_ this aroused, before or during sex.

Avon stared back down at him, his lip twitching in an almost smile. He rested his left hand on Vila's shoulder, and his hand slid under his own shorts. Vila's entire body ached with envy as he watched Avon's fist under the fabric deftly moving up and down the length of his cock as he stroked himself hard.

"Take off your shirt." Avon's raspy whisper sent shivers up Vila's spine. He unfastened his nightshirt quickly, and when Avon moved his hand slightly to allow it, he shrugged it off. A smile narrowed Avon's dark eyes. "Good. Now." He slipped his hand back out from his shorts and, slowly, stood. "Lie down, facing the wall."

It was tempting, almost overwhelmingly so, to simply ignore Avon's rules with him standing there, his cock hard and still hidden. Vila heaved a sigh. "I'm serious about all these orders."

Avon smiled beatifically. "You are free to withdraw from the arrangement whenever you like."

"Right," Vila grumbled as he turned toward the wall. He listened to Avon behind him, finding the items Vila had laid out beforehand and applying them to himself. He wanted to turn around and watch, but he'd already been too obvious about how much he was enjoying it. The last thing he wanted was Avon to feel any more smug than he generally did.

Finally, Vila felt the bed move under Avon's weight as he settled down next to him. The cool air teased his skin as Avon pushed his trousers down and pressed his slippery fingers into him. Vila's heart jumped into his throat, and he bit his lip to keep from groaning.

"D-- Don't suppose there's any rule against touching _myself_ , is there?"

Avon slid his fingers out. "If you must."

Vila was beyond voicing his annoyance. He waited Avon to press the blunt tip of his cock against him, and then into him. He waited for the familiar shot of pain at being penetrated... but it wasn't there. Instead, a warmth spread through him, flushing his skin. Avon paused once he was all the way inside, and Vila wrapped his fingers around the base of his own cock. As Avon began to thrust, Vila matched the slow, controlled rhythm with his hand. Avon's breath was hot and wet against the back of Vila's neck and his fingertips dug into Vila's hip for leverage.

The thrusts became faster, uneven. His breaths too, and Vila could hear the hint of his voice in his breathing. It only took a few more jerks before Vila came. Hard. Hard enough that his vision blackened. He could feel Avon tense against him, with only the slightest choked moan escaping as he came. Somehow, feeling Avon get off let Vila hold onto his own pleasure a little longer.

Then, it was over. It seemed entirely too sudden when it had been such a slow build up. Of course, Avon made good on his promise and did not stay beside him long. Only a few seconds after he'd come, and he slid himself out of Vila's body, leaving him feeling hollow.

Well, that part was expected. The first part he'd anticipated the whole night, that hollow feeling.

Vila didn't watch Avon dress, and he didn't watch him leave. He'd remembered, suddenly, that he didn't even like the Alpha bastard. When Avon was gone, he kicked the wet sheets off the bed and went to sleep.


End file.
